Ice Man
The parameter of truth and deceit rules my alien world. Yesterday I dreamed summer had parted, and the icy tentacles of winter spread north wrapping everything it touched with a portent to come. Last night, with my window wide open (as usual) Jack Frost reached his chubby hands into my bed and wrapped me in a cocoon of passionate near death. I awoke from my dream at five thirty in the morning wishing I'd worn a wetsuit.
Today returned to an autumnal splendour, wispy clouds, no wind, and a sun trying to keep the air warm (if only it could cut deep into the granite beneath my feet and permeate the night sky later.) Alas, after a fine bedding of Sol for the night, I am left to languish in the continuing touch of the deep south covering the gutless north in a cold security blanket, keeping it in abeyance for the new spring and summer ahead. I refuse to cede to it's power, after all I am a Winter Man. I'm used to bones clattering in deep snow, fingers dropping off in hoar frosts, the saliva spittle of my mouth forming icicles as it drooled from that same mouth rent open to catch the taste of the Antarctic.
In my dreams
Ice Man
I count Penguins
The parameter of truth and deceit rules my alien world. Yesterday I dreamed summer had parted, and the icy tentacles of winter spread north wrapping everything it touched with a portent to come. Last night, with my window wide open (as usual) Jack Frost reached his chubby hands into my bed and wrapped me in a cocoon of passionate near death. I awoke from my dream at five thirty in the morning wishing I'd worn a wetsuit.
Today returned to an autumnal splendour, wispy clouds, no wind, and a sun trying to keep the air warm (if only it could cut deep into the granite beneath my feet and permeate the night sky later.) Alas, after a fine bedding of Sol for the night, I am left to languish in the continuing touch of the deep south covering the gutless north in a cold security blanket, keeping it in abeyance for the new spring and summer ahead. I refuse to cede to it's power, after all I am a Winter Man. I'm used to bones clattering in deep snow, fingers dropping off in hoar frosts, the saliva spittle of my mouth forming icicles as it drooled from that same mouth rent open to catch the taste of the Antarctic.
In my dreams
Ice Man
I count Penguins
